Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star
by Bianca Castafarina
Summary: Tintin applies for a very particular job interview. Tintin/Haddock slash, modern-world AU.


**Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star**

**Summary:** Tintin applies for a very particular job interview.  
**Pairing:** Tintin/Haddock  
**Tags:** Modern-world AU, NC-17

The night before I could hardly sleep.  
All I could think about was the job interview. But the next morning I looked forward to it with new confidence. It had been a hobby of mine for several years now so I had some experience. Plus, my ex-boyfriend Chang had often said that I'd be perfect for it.

If it turned out to be as glamorous as I'd heard from others who worked there it might even be an alternative to the freelance journalist occupation I struggled with. What good was the prospect of adventure when the pay was too low to even buy a train ticket to the neighbor town, and educating ignorant editors about your copyright took more time than the actual article-writing? It was an ungrateful job in a dog-eat-dog world.

No risk, no fun. Who knew where this might lead to?

The question of what to wear was easily solved. Usually one had to look rather formal in front of the interviewing Human Resources manager, but in some places such as advertising agencies and film studios, a more casual look was preferred. In the end I merely decided to exchange my plus fours for jeans since they suited my figure better.

Snowy had to stay out of the adventure this time, so I left him behind in my apartment in Rue de Labrador with a large bone to keep him company.

When I arrived at the center of Bruxelles I almost walked past my destination. The company where I applied advertised itself merely by a tiny name sign next to the doorbell of a multi-story office building where several other companies also resided. Taking a deep breath, I rang the bell, and counted.  
When I was allowed in I took the elevator up to the sixth floor. In a rather bland but clean looking reception office, a secretary with slightly exaggerated makeup did not even ask my name, but merely pointed to a door and said that the manager was expecting me.

I took another deep breath and knocked at the door. A deep voice bid me to enter.

My heart was pounding wildly, and my mouth felt dry. To relax I inhaled once more as I entered the room, and stood in a posh office with a designer desk and large windows overlooking the city, but the first thing I actually noticed was the man.

He stood up from his black leather armchair, and we shook hands. His grip was a little too tight, and I winced, hopefully not too noticeable. "Bonjour! Tintin, right?" – I nodded quickly, and he continued, "My name is Archibald Haddock, I'm the manager of Twinkle Productions. Welcome to the job interview. Please, take a seat." He pointed to a chair opposite himself in front of the large desk, and I sat down facing him.

Haddock was a strong looking man, perhaps in his early forties, with full black salt-and-pepper-hair, and a similar beard. He wore a white, short-sleeved shirt that revealed muscular arms covered in wiry black hair, some of which even peeked out from beneath the neckline of his shirt even though it was buttoned up all the way.

I began to sweat. There I was, suddenly nervous and clueless, having forgotten my well-thought-out answers to typical job interview questions, because I sat in front of one of the manliest looking men I'd ever seen, and couldn't help but ogle him.

But Haddock seemed unfazed by my anxious silence, and said, "I've reviewed your application form and the test results. It looks all great so far. Only then do we require a job test from the candidates, in order to determine whether they're a good fit." He chuckled as though he'd made a pun. "But first, I'd like to ask a few more questions."

"You're most welcome, sir." I was beginning to feel more relaxed.

Haddock glanced at several paper sheets on the desk. "First, why do you want to work for Twinkle Productions?"

"Well, um…" _Because I get no respect as a freelance reporter and I'm tired of eating ramen. "_I really like the films you make. The actors are so wonderfully natural. It's like they are real couples, and I think that's what makes quality work. Plus, I've been told I'd be good at this sort of thing. I've made a few private clips before."

Haddock nodded but it was hard to tell whether he was satisfied with my answer. He immediately proceeded to the next question. "What is your past relevant experience?"

"I've tried it different ways with both my past ex-boyfriends. We discovered we looked quite nice in the films we made. We never published them but I'd be glad to show them to you. I realized it's something I enjoy doing, even over longer time periods."

Again, he merely nodded. Then he handed me a paper. "This is a list of things we do. Not all of them, not every day, but from time to time you might be asked to be ready for some of them. Please read it thoroughly and tell me if there's anything you're not hundred percent comfortable with."

I swallowed. It wasn't a long list, but at first glance I already spotted things that made me nervous.

'_Drag and roleplay. '_ Okay, that I could handle.

'_Bondage.'_ Okay, perhaps in a controlled environment such as this one…

'_Spanking.'_ Oh dear, how silly. Hopefully they'd be gentle.

'_Facial cumshots.'_ Fine, I'd done that before. Although it rather burnt in the eyes.

'_Dom/sub.'_ I wasn't quite sure what it precisely meant, and unconspicuously wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans.

'_Double penetration.'_ Oh God! I hoped he did not notice my eyes widen in shock.

'_Use of toys.'_ Phew. That one I could definitely handle. If they were of manageable size.

I finished reading the list, and nodded. A little hesitatingly I declared that I had no problems with any of these.

Haddock leaned forward over his desk, a very serious expression on his rugged, masculine face. "See, we get dozens of applicants each month, and most of them will instantly say what they won't do, and sometimes it's pretty much everything; and you see, I can't work with that, and then I ask myself, what are they even doing here? We need the open-minded ones, the curious twinks who crave adventure. Okay, maybe you're that type – and you've _definitely_ got the looks, lad! – but I still want you to read that list again at home; and call me if you have any questions or concerns. If it's just one or two things you don't like it most likely won't lower your chances of being accepted. Okay?"

"I understand, sir."

He smiled, and I noticed the little crows' feet in the corners of his eyes. Beautiful eyes, indeed! Blue and deep as the ocean. "Well, then, Tintin", he said, "are you ready for the practical test?"

"Yes", I blurted out, quick as a gunshot. The entire time I had felt his lingering, piercing gaze on me, and was confident that he found me attractive. Some men did that, practically trying to undress me with their eyes, and it was a thrilling sensation.

"Good." He grinned, and his voice turned an octave deeper. "Let me look at you." Wheeling his chair out from behind the desk he waved me to stand in front of him, and I let his hand roam over my sides, hearing a small appreciative sound from him. Unsure what was required of me I just stood there, excited when I felt his large warm hand cup and squeeze my bottom, and moved closer to him.

"Show me, Tintin. How do you seduce your boyfriend?"

"What?" I hadn't expected a question.

He leaned back in the tall, leather-covered office chair, a challenging smirk on his face. "Seduce me. Make me come. You're a fine looking lad, but what can you do? Show me what you've got."

That was the specific instruction I needed, and I smiled, delighted that he'd let me have free rein.

"Well, how about this?" The chair was low enough to allow me to sit on his lap, and I pushed my ass against his groin provocatively, smiling coyly at him over the shoulder.

Then I turned around, resting one knee on the seat between his thighs, placed my hands on the armrests, and bent forward to kiss him.

At first it was a tentative, probing touch of tongues, but it quickly turned into an ardent affair. He tasted of tobacco and whisky but I didn't mind, and the feel of his rough hand grasping my hair and sliding up my shirt was glorious.

The kiss was wet and fiery and almost competitive, the way we battled with our mouths, and I could not resist reaching down to touch the bulge in his pants.

_Yes!_

He was just as hard and excited as I. Secretly I savored the triumph, caressing and rubbing his erection as we kissed. It felt rather big and I grew curious, eager to see it.

With clumsy fingers I fumbled to open his pants, and soon had easily freed his cock. It was amazing how hard he'd gotten so soon. Perhaps he was using a certain blue pill? I interrupted the kiss, looking down, suddenly feeling nervous.

We looked back at each other. He smiled at me.

Gathering all my courage I knelt down between his legs and immediately, as though I'd been waiting to taste him all day long, I took him halfway into my mouth.

The familiar musky taste was present but not overwhelming, and I dared swallow another centimeter, amazed at its sheer size. More I could not handle, or I'd have to gag. _I wonder if I'll be required to learn deep-throating?_

Haddock moaned softly, and I felt his hand caress my hair. This encouraged me and I began to focus on the task, moving my head up and down in slow, then faster sucking motions.

In the back pocket of my jeans I had a condom. Hopefully he'd be willing to use it.

I gazed up st him with a seductive smile, sliding his hard cock over my cheeks and mouth where it left wet trails of pre-cum. Haddock looked at me, flustered, breathing shallowly.  
Keeping my gaze locked with his I licked along his entire length, provocatively slowly, before I started to suck again.

"Thundering typhoons", he muttered.

After a while he signaled me to stop. "Don't wanna come yet. You're quite… an eager lad. Weren't lying about the experience. Now… strip for me. We'll continue on the sofa."

A little hastily I undressed, and sat down on the couch. The shiny black leather felt cool on my naked skin, especially so because I had gotten quite warm. The mere sight of Haddock now standing in front of me, fully dressed with his raging hard erection sticking out of his pants, was making me dizzy with lust, and I barely remembered the condom. "Hold on", I whispered, "I brought a condom-"

"No need to." He already held one in his fingers, and opened the package. I sighed with relief. The normal-sized one I had brought probably wouldn't fit him anyway.

"I'm ready." Leani ng back on the sofa and presenting to him my conspicuously aroused state, I even pulled back one of my bent thighs, so he could better see my entrance.

"Wait a minute, lad. Not gonna take you dry." He reached for a small bottle next to the sofa.

"C'mon, please." With the sweetest voice I had to offer – by now I didn't even have to act, I really wanted to _fuck_, _him_ and _now_! – I begged him to hurry up.  
I held both my legs open for him, so far back my body was practically folded in half. How bold and shameless! I was on a stranger's sofa, letting him fuck me for no other reason than so he could judge my depravity, and a pleasant chill ran down my spine.  
"Please", I whined, "put it in, I need it, please."

To illustrate my point, I tried to push a finger inside me but he was faster. "Tut, tut!" With a grin he lightly slapped away my hand, and pushed his own lubricated digit inside me.

"Ahhh", I cried out.

He pushed deeply inside me, bending and moving the finger, and I felt my thighs involuntarily spasm as he brushed a known but still elusive hypersensitive spot. "Oh yes", I shouted breathlessly, "yes!"

"You like that, hm?" His voice was hoarse. "Oh yeah, you like that. Look at you moaning and squirming. How about this?"

There was a sudden, slightly painful stretch, and I gasped in surprise. It was a second finger, and Haddock seemed determined to drive me crazy.

Observing my hot, feverish face he moved both digits roughly, fingering me and enclosing his other hand around my erection.

"Oh", I whimpered, writhing in pleasure. _Incredible!_ He knew just where to touch me.

"Blistering barnacles, aren't you a sensitive one", he growled. "Now I can't resist that cute hole of yours."  
I watched him put on the rubber, holding my thighs open. "Please", I begged between shallow breaths, "fuck me! Now!"

"I'll give it to you good, lad!" He placed a light slap on my butt before guiding himself inside me deliciously slowly. The magnificently tight stretch, the widest I'd ever been opened up, made me cry out with both delight and pain.  
And when he went in deep and hit that spot again, causing bright lights to flare up in my vision, I whimpered, lost and debauched beneath him. Wanting and wanton, I was no longer in control, neither of myself nor of the situation.

"Oh yeah", he groaned.

With torturously slow movements he slid into and out of me, over and over again. I acutely felt every centimeter of him, a sensation heightened by the wetness of the lube.

"Faster", I demanded, brows furrowed, biting my lower lip determinedly.

We stared deeply into each other's eyes as he thrust, and he bend forward more so my knees were draped over his shoulders.

"Can't wait, lad? You look like an angel-"

"Oh", I moaned when he suddenly thrust hard.

"- but you're actually a devil. Making me do naughty things."

I grinned, breathlessly, only to cry out again as he hit my sweet spot with another hard thrust. "Oh yes, fuck me, oh-! I…"

"Oh my God, you're tight."

"My name's Tintin."

"Wha-?" He stared at me, then chuckled.

His face was moist with sweat. To see a man so passionate about me was without exceptions a riveting sight.

Soon he began to push faster, and I knew I wouldn't last much longer. The delectable tension in my body demanded release.

"Please… harder", I whimpered, grasping my own erection, stroking and squeezing it in the small space between my belly and his torso.

The leather sofa squeaked and creaked as he took me with forceful, rhythmic thrusts.

Moaning, panti ng, gasping, I arrived at the moment when I couldn't bear the building-up stimulation any longer, and I let go with a low cry, absolutely and wholly conquered.

Exhausted, I looked up at Haddock. He took it slow, having considered how hypersensitive my body now was right after orgasm. Smiling, he wiped a drop of sweat from my brow.

"Oh Mr Haddock", I panted, "that… I-"

"You still ready for more?"

Confused, I stared at him, and suddenly remembered that this was still a job interview, after all. "Yes.. Of course."

With a grunt he thrust his hips forward, again hitting my sweet spot head-on.

"Ohh", I screamed, rapidly overtaken by a new wave of bliss just teetering on the edge of agony. My fingernails scratched and dug into his shoulder blades.

"Hold onto me, boy", he muttered, scarcely audible, when he began to pound into me, the fastest he'd done it so far, each thrust pushing me violently against the sofa.

"Oh! – oh!" I felt my face tense, and my fingers and toes curled almost of their own accord.

At this speed it was clearly the final spurt.  
Haddock came moments later, giving up control for a few seconds. I watched the overwhelmed expression in his flustered face, fascinatedly, and savored the sensation of his pulsating cock inside me.

For several minutes he rested atop me, caressing my hair, until he pulled out, and – not quite steady on his legs – removed the condom, and rearranged his clothes which was done quickly since he only had to close his pants and straighten his shirt.

I took the hint and began to dress as well. My legs were still trembling, and trying to put on my pants I almost tripped. He caught me, and grinned. "It's all right, lad. You did good."

I giggled, embarassedly. "How, um, will we continue?"

"Wait for the letter. We'll let you know within a week or two."

I nodded quietly. Right now I just had amazing sex with a complete stranger, but it meant nothing. It was merely a job interview. A nagging doubt appeared on the back of my mind. Could I do this over a longer period of time? Such intimate acts with men I didn't love? Why hadn't I given it more thought before?

Well, I'd sleep over it. And if Twinkle Productions actually wanted me, I could still say no.

.

.

.

The letter arrived a week later.

_Dear Mr Tintin_, it began,

_We appreciate the time you took to come for an interview at Twinkle Productions. You were not selected to return for additional interviews. We received applications from many qualified candidates…_

My heart sank.  
Over the past few days I had thought about it, and despite the doubts still had hoped get at least an attempt to work in the industry.

_We wish you success with your current job search._ _We appreciate your interest in our company._

The letter was signed with a swirl and the name of someone else, not Haddock's. I wondered whether my job interview had been filmed. Surely it had been, hadn't it? So other people at the company, too, could evaluate my experience.

But why? It felt painfully personal. I had enjoyed the heated encounter with their manager, Mr Haddock, so much that the memory of it still served to supply my sexual fantasies. Hadn't he found me attractive? I had been certain he'd loved it as much as I had.

I was just about to stuff the rejection letter back into the envelope and throw the whole thing into the trash when I noticed there was something else there.

It was a handwritten note on a small card. My eyes widened as I read it.

"_Dear Tintin, _

_I'm sorry about the rejection letter. You seem like a precious, earnest lad and to be frank it would bother me to see you used and discarded by this industry. _

_I'd be most happy if you'd do me the honor of meeting me for dinner at the Hilton Hotel,_

_Saturday September 8__th__, at 19:00. _

_Looking forward to see you again, _

_Archie Haddock_

the end


End file.
